


NEXT Year's Resolutions

by NuwaWuxia



Category: C-Pop, NINE PERCENT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, College AU, Ding Zeren is the BEST, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gosh I hope I got all the characters, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Health Issues, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Year's Resolutions, POV Second Person, Party, Reader-Insert, Toxic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuwaWuxia/pseuds/NuwaWuxia
Summary: It's NYE and your best friends Ding Zeren, Li Quanzhe, Zhu Zhengting, and Bi Wenjun are throwing a party. All their Idol Producer friends are going to be there, including your ex Lin Yanjun. College AU. I swear I have heard at least 30% if this dialogue IRL.WARNINGS: Profanity, Recreational use of alcohol and cannabis. You use alcohol to cope with mostly unnamed shit in your life, so if you are sensitive to that please avoid and take care of yourself. Also we deal with some mental health here.Also I am not condoning how she handles her business but real life is real life, you know?
Relationships: Bi Wenjun/Zhu Zhengting | Jung Jung, Ding Zeren/Reader, Lin Yanjun/Reader
Kudos: 4





	NEXT Year's Resolutions

**Author's Note:**

> Let Me Start by saying I AM SORRY. I'm sorry for making Yanjun the bad guy in this, but someone had to be the bad guy and at first it was going to be Wenjun, but none of us were buying that. And then I couldn't think of anyone else whose freaking face would be able to pull off being a player quite like Yanjun, and we all know we thought he was tough before we found out he was soft. I felt genuinely bad every time I typed his name and said bad things. I love Yanjun IRL, but this is an AU and yeah I'll just leave it at that.
> 
> Also, this was crazy because this that I'm giving you was so NOT what I set out to write. I wanted to do a fluffy NYE party with NEXT being drunk bubs, but somehow I got all angsty, but it's actually sweet. It was also not supposed to be 13,000 words, but well here we are. I hope you enjoy this. It might be my favorite thing I've written. Ding Zeren for life.
> 
> PS I'm sorry for the horrendous formatting at the beginning. I tried to fix it but I'm having my own NYE crisis right now and My one brain cell had one hour of sleep. so I'll fix it if I have time later. oops It's supposed to be like a text think but it was supposed to be like a text thing, but it turned out ten types of awful so now I'm just hoping it's readable. Kill me.

Wenjun, Zhengting, Zeren and Quanzhe are your neighbors. You’ve known them since freshman year when you all lived on the same floor. Wenjun and Zhengitng are a year older, seniors now, but you’ve all been close ever since you met. You met Yanjun through Ziyi and Xukun who are in a dance club with Ting, Zeren and Quanzhe. You and Yanjun have been on and off again for almost two years now, ever since he kissed you in the middle of spring semester your freshman year. You fell for his smiles and his cold jokes like a fucking idiot. And you fell hard. And sometimes it’s hard to get back on your feet, like now, when you’re off again. Usually you’re off when it’s convenient for him, like when he goes home over breaks. This year he didn’t break up with you before leaving for Christmas like he did last year. No, instead he broke up with you between Christmas and New Years, via text.

\----------------

Yanjun: y/n, I think we should see other people

You: …

You: WTF

You: You mean you’re seeing other people, aren’t you? 

Yanjun: Look. I know I said I’d break up with you before I cheated on you again. But it happened really fast, and I didn’t have time.

Yanjun: I’m sorry

You: FUCK YOU YANJUN

You: You’re such an asshole

\-----------------

Group Chat

You: Party’s cancelled 

FCC: WHAT?

You: I’m not coming 

FCC: We can have parties without you

You: Good fucking luck 

ZZT: Chencheng, you don’t even live here, so idk what tf this we is???

ZZT: And the party is most definitely NOT cancelled and you ARE coming so stfu

LQZ: What happened Y/N? NYE was your idea

DZR: Give ya one guess. Bet it rhymes with WENJUN

BWJ: I didn’t do anything

LQZ: You mean YANJUN????

You: It doesn’t matter. I’m not coming.

FCC: If you’re worried about not having a date, don’t worry. I’ll kiss you at midnight ;)

You: That’s gross. I don’t want STDs Chengcheng 

FCC: Oh, but you’ll fuck around with Yanjun? OK

You: the fuck does that mean 

FCC: NOTHING

ZZT: Enough. Y/N you’re coming if I have to drag you over here by your hair.

BWJ: Someone hide the whiskey

\----------------

ZZT: Come over here so we can get ready together.

You: Ting, I told you I’m not coming. There’s no point in a NYE party if there’s no one to kiss at midnight 

ZZT: There’s always Chengcheng

You: Ugh. I just want to lay in my bed and eat ice cream OKAY? 

ZZT: No. Not okay. That’s what you’ve been doing for TWO DAYS.

ZZT: Time to get your party dress on and forget about that fool.

ZZT: NOW!

You pull yourself out of bed reluctantly. The dress you bought especially for NYE is hanging on your closet door. It’s not all that flashy because you know you’re just going over to the guys house, but you bought it to wear with Yanjun, but it’s all you have now. You drag yourself to the shower and wash out your greasy breakup hair. You hate that you’re fucking pathetic for Yanjun, and your friends hate it to, but they can only lecture you so many times. Your hair’s not dry yet, but Zhengting is still blowing up your phone, and he’s about to come over and make a scene so you snatch your dress off the door and walk across the street to their house. Quanzhe answers the door in a cloud of smoke.

“Hey, babe,” he lawls.

“Are you even going to make it to midnight?” you ask, looking at his blood shot eyes. It’s almost 7 pm.

“Hopefully not,” he grins. He closes the door and offers you his bong. You have no shits left to give so you drop your dress on the floor and take the bong and the lighter he has extended to you. You take a big rip and Zhengting comes down the stairs as you’re coughing your lungs out.

“That’s enough,” Ting says, and Quanzhe takes the bong back and heads to the couch to keep watching youtube videos. “You’re gonna look like shit if I have to do your makeup on your droopy stoner eyes.”

“I’m gonna look like shit regardless,” you complain as he picks your dress up off the ground.

“No you’re not. You’re gonna look hot. Now get your shit together!” he orders and pulls you up the stairs.

Wenjun sits on the bed scrolling through his phone while Zhengting blow dries your wet hair. It warms you up on the cold evening.

“What did Chengcheng mean on the group chat today?” you ask them when he’s done and brushing out your hair.

“What does Cheng ever mean?” Ting asks in reply.

“Don’t lie to me. If you know something, then tell.”

Zhengting looks at Wenjun, but says nothing.

“Junnie?” you asked, searchingly.

“Yanjun goes out with a lot of girls,” Wenjun says diplomatically.

“What he does when we are broken up is his own business,” you say quietly, but deep down you already know what Wenjun says next. It’s in your mind while he takes his time to say it.

“He may not just see other girls while you’re broken up,” he says cautiously. “And he may not just see them.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” you demand to know, but you know it’s unjust.

“Honey, I have tried. You don’t want to listen.”

You pause for a moment before bursting into tears. “I’m such an idiot,” you sob.

“No one here is saying that,” Zhengting tries to soothe you.

“But we are thinking it,” Zeren says from the doorway. You look around for something to throw at him, but Zhengting keeps his room too neat. Finally you find a hairbrush and lob it at him, but he’s quick and he dodges. “Hey, don’t be mad at me. I just bought a bottle of Jack,” he croons, pulling out a fifth of Jack Daniels he bought for your personal use from behind his back.

You reach your hands out in an infantile “gimme” gesture. Whiskey is your hate liquor, and everyone knows it. After two and a half years of partying together they know you drink vodka on the regular, tequila when you really want to let loose, and whiskey when you want to burn it all down. And tonight, Zeren knows, you want to burn it all down, and he’s always in charge of the bar.

“Zeren, I thought I said NOT to get whiskey,” Wenjun says.

“I heard you. But it’s NYE,” he says, and he approaches you, placing the bottle in your waiting hands. “And baby needs her bottle. Out with old and in with the new, right, baby?” He pets your hair gently and you should be more upset at how condescending it is but it’s actually nice.

“Right!” you say enthusiastically as you unscrew the cap.

Zhengting pulls the bottle away from you and sets it on the ground behind his back, causing you to frown. “Baby needs to put her makeup on first, or baby’s not gonna make it to the party,” he tsks. You roll your eyes before closing them and let him get started on your face. “You got the playlist ready, Zeren?”

“Of course,” he says confidently, because he’s always in charge of music, too. “I’ll see you guys in a little while,” he says and goes casually down the stairs to continue setting up.

Zhengting finishes your makeup far more quickly and better than you could have done on your own. He tells you to put on your dress and you follow his orders, not caring that he and Wenjun are right there, or that the door is still open.

“Can I have my whiskey now?” you ask with an outstretched hand.

“If you want to start drinking now then go down stairs with Zeren and Quanzhe. You can be his problem for the night,” he says acerbically.

You know you probably deserve it. You squat down beside him and kiss him on the cheek as he sits in front of his mirror. “I know you’re probably tired of cleaning up my messy ass every time I let Yanjun break me. I get it. I should be better. But the New Year starts tomorrow, not tonight. So give me a break, okay?”

He sighs and gives you a look with a lot of meaning, but he knows there’s no stopping you. You grab your bottle from behind him and shuffle down the stairs. You realize now that you didn’t bring shoes to go with your pretty dress, and you could go back over to your place and get them, but lord knows they’ll just be off your feet in an hour and you’ll be running around here barefoot then anyway. Zeren’s nowhere to be seen at the moment, so you plop down next to Quanzhe, who offers you another hit. You take it. Quanzhe doesn’t drink, and you want to get drunk, but you don’t want to get drunk alone. That’s why you came looking for Zeren. He’s your best drinking buddy. You don’t realize that he doesn’t drink as much as you always do, but he’s good company. He would make a great bartender, if that wouldn’t be an enormous waste of his other talents. He somehow knew what people needed. He knew when someone needed another drink and when they didn’t. He was a good listener who only offered advice when he was asked, or when he felt it was truly needed. It’s a while before he appears again, and by then you’re good and high and you haven’t even noticed how much time has passed. Guests will be arriving soon, probably, maybe, Zeren informs you both, and Quanzhe scurries away to hide his stash in his room. He’s willing to share but not with every asshole who walks in the door, only those who know how to find his stoner den.

Zeren’s in the kitchen cutting up limes and you go to talk to him through the window to the living room. This is often the window through which Zeren observes the party, because even though he’s left to mastermind a lot of the logistics, when it’s actually happening he usually posts up in the kitchen or nearby and keeps a watchful eye. He’s part bartender and part bouncer. In spite of being the shortest of his friends he gives off strong “don’t fuck with me” vibes and takes it upon himself to keep people in check, especially around his friends. Especially around you. He’s even thrown Yanjun out a time or two. He doesn’t abandon this post until the party is almost over and things have calmed down. That’s when, if your messy ass is still around, he usually takes you to his bed and lets you sleep before he comes back to clean everything up. Zeren likes to make sure everyone has a good time, but he also likes to make sure things are under control, and he doesn’t like to wake up to a messy house.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” you ask him through the window. This is the first time you’ve seen him since then.

“It was fine,” he shrugs. “Nothing special. Just the usual. You?”

“Yeah. The usual,” you reply. You don’t know that Zeren knows how bad your home life is. There’s a lot of things you don’t remember telling Zeren, but it’s okay, because he’s great at keeping secrets. You hum for a moment while he continues to cut. “Do you think Yanjun will come tonight?” you can’t stop yourself from asking.

His cutting halts momentarily before picking up again. “I don’t know. I know that Ziyi and those guys are coming, so there’s a chance.” He finishes and sets the knife gently in the sink. “Do you want me to deal with him if he comes?” he asked, looking up at you for the first time since you came over.

“No,” you shrug. “It’s a party. He has friends here. He can come.”

“He doesn’t have any friends that live in this house,” Zeren says a little gruffly.

“Mm, but he has friends who will be here and they are our friends, and it will be a big party, so who cares.” You’re trying to act like it’s not a big deal but neither of you are buying it. You can’t see the way Zeren’s fists are balling up until his knuckles are white. He lets them go after a moment.

“Have you made a New Years resolution?” he asks casually, transferring the cut up limes from the cutting board to a bowl.

“Aren’t those resolutions just for breaking? Why would I want to set myself up for more failure?”

He scoffs. “When have you ever been a failure?” You don’t answer. He wants to ask you to make a resolution not to get back together with Yanjun’s lying, cheating ass this year, but he heard your words and so he doesn’t want to create a self-fulfilling prophecy, because he knows the only thing you fail at is staying away from that asshole.

“What about you?”

“Nope. You’re right. They’re impossible to keep,” he agrees.

Just then Justin and Chengcheng come busting through the door, and you know now that even though it might not quite be time, the party has officially begun. Justin and Chengcheng aren’t your close friends, not like the guys who live here. But they are _fun_ and they do like to drink, so good times begin when they arrive. Justin is only a freshman, and you’re not quite sure how even ended up in your group of friends, but he’s entertaining as long as he keeps his hands to himself, and tonight he’s brought his older brother Xinchun, who you’ve met a few times, but is known to be quiet and studious. Chengcheng is already bouncing off the walls.

“What’s up with you?” Zeren asks as he sets out disposable shot glasses on the counter of the serving hatch.

“He chugged a redbull and vodka just before we left,” Justin explained.

“Ew,” you grimace. “Redbull is so nasty.”

“What’s your favorite energy drink then, Miss Thing?” Chengcheng asks you.

You pick up the shot glass that Zeren has just filled for you. “Whiskey,” you say with a wink and toss back the shot. They can’t help but laugh.

“I’m pretty sure that was tequila,” Chengcheng laughs as he picks up his own glass.

You reach for the lime that Zeren has just offered you and bite it. “Ay, but this is whiskey,” you say in an inexplicable Scottish accent you’ve just acquired as you open the fifth that Zeren gave you earlier and take your first swig. It burns so good, but you make sure not to let it show on your face because you like the way guys are impressed by how well you drink. You know that’s a little fucked up, but well, you’re a little fucked up.

“You’re totally wasted on a guy like Yanjun,” Justin says because he has absolutely no filter. You’re not sure what exactly that’s supposed to mean, or if he even knows that you guys have broken up again. Before you have time to worry about your total lack of response and there’s a knock on the door and Chengcheng opens it to a group of girls you’ve seen before but aren’t familiar with. Then Zeren is there with another distraction.

“Can you take these pretzels up to Quanzhe. He’s probably got the munchies by now.”

“These are my favorite pretzels, and I’ve got the munchies by now,” you replied, hugging the bowl to your chest.

“Maybe if you’re nice to him he’ll share,” Zeren smiled.

“Maybe if I’m nice to him, they will make it to his room.” But you hustle up the stairs to share with you friend. Quanzhe’s in his room listening to music, blissed out when you knock on the door, even though it’s open. He’s staring at a lava lamp and makes a small sound for you to come in. You sit next to him and offer the bowl to him. He reaches in and takes a handful without looking at it. You sit with Quanzhe for a while in a comfortable quiet. You’ve only known him a year and half, but you’d swear you knew each other in a past life, so there’s not a whole lot that needs to be said between the two of you. You sit with your knees pulled to your chin. Eventually you turn your head to ask a question that’s been on your mind all day.

“Quanzhe, will you kiss me at midnight?” you ask, desperate.

He wrinkles his nose at you. “That’d be like kissing my sister.”

“What’s the big deal? We hit the same pieces all the time,” you note as he picks up his pipe.

“That’s not remotely the same. And if you suggest such a thing again I will not share with you anymore.” He takes a hit and holds it. Smoke wisps out of his mouth as he says “the smoke sterilizes it.” You laugh, because you don’t believe that’s true, and you wave him off when he offers you puff. “What’s so important about being kissed at midnight, anyway?” he wonders.

You shrug. “It’s tradition.”

“Tradition is stupid. I mean, that’s just totally arbitrary. Time on a clock is totally made up anyway and so are years. So really tomorrow is the same as any other day, and midnight is the same as any other moment. You might as well wander around wanting to be kissed all the time.” He fades a little at the end of his rant. It’s funny because that’s not even the weed talking. That’s just the kind of weird ass shit Quanzhe says sober.

“Maybe I do wander around wanting to be kissed all the time,” you tell him.

“Girl, you’ve got so much better shit to do with your time,” he assures you, and then you both laugh as you take another sip of Jack and lean back on the carpet together. You hide out in Quanzhe’s room for a little while longer and chill out to his music while you listen to people gather downstairs. A slight draft wafts up the stairs each time the door is opened to welcome new guests, but it’s refreshing. Eventually the door will just be propped open to keep the place cool when the whole house is packed with friends and friends of friends. You’ve always been a little surprised that these four boys like to throw parties so much. They’re not your typical extroverts, but they still throw a party almost every month. You know that they do it for their friends. They’ve got the best space and they like to be at home, so having friends over and gathering people around is what they prefer to do rather than going to someone else’s party. Plus, Zeren keeps it going like a well oiled machine. Nothing’s ever missing. It’s always safe. Those are his goals. Still, you know that Zhengting and Wenjun are still hiding out in their room because they don’t come to their own party until it is in full effect.

Quanzhe’s friends Linkai and Zhou Rui arrive at Quanzhe’s room and you see them upside down first because of how you're lying and then behind them you see Zhengting’s door open, and that’s your queue to leave. You pull yourself up and grab a few more pretzels before ruffling Quanzhe’s hair and heading to the hallway.

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Zhengting asks.

You pat your butt and thighs even though your stupid dress doesn’t have any pockets. “I don’t know where my phone is.”

“Well, Chengcheng just texted and said Yanjun is downstairs,” he informs you.

The way you see it, you have two options. You can carry your ass back home and go cry about it, or you can get drunk off your ass and try to have a good time. You choose the latter and shrug as you unscrew the bottle cap and take a _big_ glug of whiskey. “You’re the one who said I had to come,” you tell Ting when he shakes his head at you.

“Just promise me you won’t leave with him tonight,” Ting sighs.

“Well, he did come with another girl,” Wenjun says quietly from behind his boyfriend.

You look at him and raise your eyebrows while you raise the bottle to your lips again.

“Wenjun, that’s not helpful,” Ting gripes. But you’ve got no fucks in exactly this moment, so you lead the pair downstairs.

Zeren’s eyes find yours before you even reach the bottom step and he’s worried, but he sees your smile and even though he’s not sure if it’s forced or lubricated he knows that for now it’s a good thing.

You look over the crowd and most of the people there are familiar to your alcohol-soaked brain, but it’s hard to remember names you only hear when drunk. You remember that tall guy, Bu Fan. You remember that one time he gave you a piggyback ride, even though you don’t remember where, but there was food involved and Yanjun was _pissed_. To your surprise, people look happy to see you and the atmosphere is very warm. And you haven’t seen Yanjun yet, but honestly there aren’t that many places he can be. Since he’s not in the living room, he must be in the basement, which is where Zeren’s room is, and that’s absolutely burning him up, though he’s not showing it. You say hello to some people as Zhengting pushes you, hands on your hips, toward the kitchen where Zeren is waiting.

“Why don’t you let me hold onto this for a while, and you hold onto this?” Zeren is taking the two-thirds of a fifth that’s in your hand and replacing it with a red plastic cup. Funny, you could’ve sworn you’d drunk more of it by now.

“This isn’t water is it?” you ask, and he laughs because it’s already in your hand and you can clearly see that it’s coke with a dash of whiskey because Zeren knows it’s not good for you to mix too many liquors and he also knows you were a little wobbly already coming down the stairs. He knows a lot of things. He could try to stop you from drinking all together, but he knows that would grate against your independent and rebellious nature and it would backfire. And you know that he’s silently taking care of you. The fizz from the fresh soda tickles your nostrils. “Did anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“How could anything interesting happen while you were gone, sweetheart?” he retorts while he mixes two drinks and then passes them off to your friends behind you. He gives them a little nod with his chin toward the stairs leading to the basement.

 _I know he’s down there, and I’m staying away_ , you want to say with a roll of your eyes, but you know they’re each just trying to protect you in their own way. Wenjun with his honesty, Zhengting with his advice and admonishments, and Zeren with his every well-thought out gesture. So instead you just ask Zeren if he has any cigarettes, because you need some air, but not pure air. He bought a pack when he went out for your whiskey because you two “only smoke when you drink.” He reaches in his pockets and once again gives you what you need. You notice for the first time that he’s put a half-zipped bomber jacket over his plain t-shirt tucked into his belted jeans. It’s not festive at all. It’s positively ordinary, but it’s a look that works for him and for a moment, except for the hair, he reminds you a little of James Dean. You give him a kiss on the cheek right next to his dimple and excuse yourself out the backdoor by the kitchen.

You’re tempted to sit on the stoop, but you haven’t reached that point of the night yet. You need something to look forward to. Instead you step down to the sidewalk and lean against the house and puff away silently on your death stick. And amazingly, your mind is clear. You enjoy it and just as you’re finishing someone calls your name from the doorway.

“What?” you call back with an annoyance you don’t truly feel.

“Come play beer pong with me!” Chengcheng calls without fully exiting the house.

“Now?” you ask, like you have anything better to do.

“Yes, now. Justin is challenging _against_ me with some girl he just met because he thinks he has game, and we need to put him in his place.”

“Justin shouldn’t drink so much. He’s just a baby,” you say like you weren’t just as bad, or worse.

“Come inside,” Chengcheng begs. “You’re gonna freeze.”

“I feel fine,” you argue, although it’s apparent to both of you that you’re shaking like a leaf.

“Fine, popsicle girl! Freeze to death!”

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.” You scrape your cherry onto the concrete and throw what’s left into an old coffee tin.

“That dress is stupid,” Chengcheng says as he holds the door open from the inside so you have to brush against him as you come in.

“I know.”

“It looks ugly on you.”

“Okay, now, that’s just not true.” He was testing your confidence on purpose and you delivered more than he expected.

“I meant what I said early,” he tells you as you two descend into the basement. “I’ll kiss you at midnight.”

You laugh at him. “Maybe I’ll find you if I’m really desperate.”

“Don’t wait too long. Might find someone else,” he quips, and you’re sure that he will.

It isn’t until you reach the bottom of the steps that you realize you’ve unwittingly ended up where you don’t want to be. You see the table set up for beer pong, but you refuse to look anywhere else. You consciously keep your eyes from roving for who you don’t want to see. The cups have been filled and Justin is ready to go. You guys let him and his girl go first. Chengcheng rubs your arms with his warm hands because you’re an idiot who went outside without a coat and even though you can’t really feel it your skin is flushed and cold to the touch. Justin and the girl both miss. Chengcheng makes his shot and Justin has to drink. Just before it’s your turn you see Yanjun move into your view right over Justin’s shoulder. He’s literally moving into frame and you just know he’s doing it on purpose. And as he planned, you miss. You almost never miss, so Chengcheng is surprised until he looks up at Justin, who’s taunting you and sees you-know-who. He turns you square toward him and grabs your face.

“I did not know he was down here!” Chengcheng says firmly. “But I need you to focus. We cannot lose to Justin.” You nod awkwardly because he’s still holding your face.  
“Where’s your energy drink?” he asks, and you laugh because you know it’s a call back. You find your cup and drain it because it’s mostly coke and a little whiskey and that’s pretty much an energy drink, right?

Justin and the girl both sink their shots and you and Chengcheng both drink. You know he’s still lurking in the corner of the room, watching you at the same time he’s paying attention to another girl because he’s sooo good at that. He can divide his attention like a hershey’s bar and not miss a thing. But you tune him out, and you and Chengcheng don’t miss a shot until Justin crumbles in his humiliating defeat. Chengcheng scoops you up in a hug that has you hoisted over his shoulder and sings ‘We are the champions’ as he carries you up the stairs. You wonder if he’s acting like this to put Yanjun off or if he’s trying to make a move or if this is just Chengcheng. Either way, you’re still happy with victory. He sets you down at the top of the stairs where the landing forms and intersection with the backdoor, the kitchen and the living room. You could go anywhere from here, but you know you’re going to the kitchen.

“Can I have my whiskey back?” you ask Zeren sweetly.

“After you take this,” he tells you, handing you a shot glass of clear liquid you take for vodka. You toss it back and it’s water.

“You tricked me,” you smile.

“I did. I’m sorry. Here.” He takes your plastic shot glass and pours into it from a vodka bottle before handing it back to you. You shoot it and frown.

“You’re a con man,” you grumble. He actually filled an old vodka bottle with water just to trick you. Well, you’re not the only one. He knows just how to trick everyone. But you know he’s doing it for your own good so you hold out the tiny cup for one more just to get an approving smile from him, and after you’ve been good he opens the cabinet under the sink to fetch your bottle. He leans against the counter and crosses his arms, somehow intensifying the James Dean impression you got earlier. You examine it like he would’ve let anyone touch your precious elixir. You grin, but you don’t open it right away, because you’re feeling a perfect level of drunkenness right now, and it’s nice. It’s warm.

“Don’t you get bored in here?” you ask him, leaning against the counter next to him.

“Nah. When I get bored I think of ways to trick you,” he grins.

You scrutinize his face and his eyes carefully. You think about brushing hair off his forehead but he looks so cool like that so you leave it. “Have you been drinking?” you ask.

“I have not,” he admits. “You want to have my first drink with me?”

“Well, I am a winner, so this one’s on me,” you say with a wink. You turn around to grab shot glasses and the tequila bottle. He hands you salt and you hand him a lime.

“Cheers!” you both say and maintain eye contact while you toss back the sweet liquor. He squeezes the lime into his mouth and screws his eyes closed at the sourness. Warmth spreads from your throat down your chest to your stomach and you shiver.

“You good?” he asked. Not like something is wrong, like someone else might, even though he knows you have reasons not to be good. You nod and smile, and you mean it because even if you’re sad, you’re usually good if you’re with him. You reciprocate the question and he nods back with a soft smile before he shoves a chip in your open mouth. “Zhengting is trying to get your attention,” he tells you.

You tell Zeren you’ll see him later and make your way over to where his roommates are sitting. Wenjun is on the couch and Zhengting is perched on the arm next to him. Without any invitation or permission you sit in Wenjun’s lap and rest your head on his shoulder. He supports you with an arm around you back. He rubs your side gently.

“You okay?” Zhengting asks. Not like Zeren did. No, he expects something to be wrong. Even though he was the one who told you you had to come because you’d have a good time, he’s expecting you to be having a bad time. You hate it when he acts like this, when he brings down your mood that you’re carefully trying to build up.

“I’m perfect!” you say loudly and exaggeratedly, giving Zhengting a little shove. That’s when Wenjun tosses you over, because you know how he hates you yelling in his ear. You apologize by patting his ears gently and kissing him on the cheek, and he doesn’t look mad. The couple are talking with Xukun and Ziyi, who are both close friends of You-Know-Who. You ask politely about their break and respond “Great!” when they ask you. You all know it’s a lie, but your tone is bright enough that everyone ignores how blatant it is. Everyone is so tired of this road you’ve all been taking. They’re tired of the drama, and they know their friend’s an ass, but he’s their friend, so they can’t be anything more than polite to you. But Ziyi always looks at you with pity and you fucking hate it.

You know the door opens because a cold wind blows through but it brings in pure sunshine. You look at the door to see Zhangjing and Linong have walked in, late as always. It’s a perfect excuse to escape because even though they're also his friends, their light is above all that bullshit. You jump up from your spot next to Wenjun and run to throw your arms around them both at the same time.

“Babies!” you cry when you crash into them, even though Xhangjing is a grad student and Linong is a sophomore like Chengcheng. You know you’ve drawn attention to yourself with your loudness and your movement, but you don’t care.

“Hey, baby,” they both say as they take you in a group hug. You’ve still got the bottle gripped in your hand and after you let them go to take a swig of it. They see it and give you a troubled look. They both just got back to town today and they haven’t heard.

“Again?” Zhangjing asks.

“Whatever,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

“Hey, where’s Y/N? She’s got my smokes!” you hear Zeren say loud enough from the kitchen to reach your ears over the music. There’s no way he doesn't see you, since you’re basically directly in front of him and when you turn your head you can see him clearly, even through the people that fill the living room. But as you turn your head you register that Yanjun and that blonde he came with have just reached the top of the stairs, and you realize that Zeren’s giving you a warning call, like a prairie dog. Predator on the scene. Run for cover.

“Come and get ‘em!” you tell back over the crowd, waving the cigarettes you forgot were shoved in your boobs above your head, and you slip past the two men you were just welcoming and out the door to the front porch. You wait for a minute, listening to cars pass and doors close. You can hear a group of girls walking down the street, chatting cheerfully. You don’t dare light up a cigarette until Zeren joins you. He places a jacket over your shoulders. It’s not the one he was wearing because he’s still wearing it. It’s his leather one, and it’s cold.

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It was in my car, but you’re the one who came out here without a coat. You’ll warm it up in a minute.” He holds a hand out for you to hand over his smokes and you do. He lifts a cigarette to his lips, but then he stops as he looks down to light it. “Damn, sweetheart. Where’d you leave your shoes?”

“Didn’t bring any.”

“Jesus H. Christ. What am I gonna do with you?” He turns his back to you. “Come on, hop on and I’ll take you to your place to get some shoes.”

“Why? You and I both know I’m just going to take them off. I’m fine.”

“You’re gonna get frostbite.”

“It is not that cold. If you’d give me a cigarette, we could go in sooner.” You refuse to acknowledge that you’re shaking.

He gives in, because there’s just no fucking talking to you. He knows, maybe better than anyone, that you can’t be told what to do. That’s why he has to find such tricky ways to take care of you. He has to plan and prepare because god forbid you do what’s good for you when it’s suggested. He thinks you’re a mess, but he won’t say it because he knows it’s mean and he knows it won’t help you to hear it. And he knows better than most that it’s not entirely your fault. You two puff away on your cigarettes for a few minutes in comfortable silence. You take a swig of whiskey and offer him the bottle.

“You’re gonna share with me, sweetheart?” he asks like it’s the honor of a lifetime.

“You deserve it,” you shrug.

He takes it gladly and enjoys the burn. He stomps out your cigarette butt and looks over your shoulder through the blinds as he takes a last drag of his own. He can see your stupid ex in the living room chatting with your friends and his. It’s the nucleus of the party at this point and you definitely won’t be getting through the living room without passing him.

“Wanna come hang out with me in the kitchen?” Zeren asks as he stomps out his cigarette. You half turn your head to see what he was looking at but you don’t need to. You just agree. “Okay. Hop on,” he says, offering to give you a ride once again.

“I can walk!” you insist.

“There is broken glass over there, now giddy up!” he insists. He’s not angry or even frustrated, he just needs you to give in, and you do.

“Why do you like to stay in the kitchen at your own parties?” you ask. You suck the jello shot out of its shallow cup.

“I can see everything,” he says matter of factly and yet it comes off with his typical air of mystery. You already know this. You’re not even sure why you asked. You guess what you really want to know is why he wants to be outside the party instead of immersed in it. Wenjun and Ting like to be _in_ the party. You like to move through it. Quanzhe likes to occupy his space and only his space. But Zeren just wants to observe it. He interacts with it in his way, but he’s somehow not in it. Your current position is not one you usually take, but you’re enjoying it nonetheless. You’ve crammed yourself into a corner of the kitchen counter, leaning against the wall where no one but Zeren can see you. He’s your watcher and your shield and he will know before you if any danger is coming your way. He’s not doing much at the moment though, just eating peanuts. He talks to you about this show he started watching.

Quanzhe wanders down the stairs to grab sodas from the fridge for him and his cohorts. He looks like he needs help but he rejects it when you offer. You think for a moment you might like to venture upstairs with him for a bit, but you decide against it. You’re happy where you are.

Wenjun comes to the window a few minutes after that. He asks Zeren where you are and Zeren subtly glanced to the right. Wenjun hadn’t even seen you tucked into your corner. He reaches his long arm through the window and hands you your phone with a simple “Found this.” You mumble a thanks, and both you and Zeren wish it had remained hidden. Reflexively, you open it. There’s a whole bunch of texts. Most of them were from the group hours ago and are irrelevant now. There’s one from Yanjun.

Yanjun: Stop trying to make me jealous with other guys. It won’t work.

>>I’ve never tried to make you jealous. That’s your problem. You deal with it.

You’ve typed it out. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, pondering whether or not to add in a “fuck face” for some spice and hit send, but before you can Zeren deftly grabs the phone, turning it off an putting it in his pocket. He thinks twice about his actions though because that’s super controlling and even though he desperately wants to do it, for your own good, he knows he shouldn’t. He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out the device, holding it back up to you.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not my place. I just don’t think you shoul-”

“No,” you interrupt. “I’m glad you did that. Good idea. Hide it.” All the better you didn’t send the message now he’ll just think that you’re typing for hours and surely that will drive him mad. Zeren gives you a small but very satisfied smile and slips the phone back into his pocket.

You wonder where Ting is and why he hasn’t been badgering you all night.

The truth is, he’s hedging his bets. And he’s being an asshole, but in a sneaky way. Zhengting thinks you're weak and he has your track record to back him up. He knows it’s only a matter of time before you let Yanjun back in, so he isn’t going to spend tonight not hanging out with your mutual friends. Afterall, you two only know each other because of Zhengting. And it isn’t even like he wants you guys to be together. He knows it’s toxic. Everyone knows it’s toxic. But he honestly gave up on trying to explain that to you two breakups ago. He’s not even sure you’re going to make it through the rest of this party without getting back with Yanjun, because Yanjun takes what he wants, especially from women. And you don’t guard yourself. You want to, but you don’t, and so you’re a victim every goddamn time.

Just as you're wondering where your other best friend is, Chengcheng and Justin come barrelling into the kitchen. They want a rematch, but this time you and Justin versus Chengcheng and someone that came with Ziyi’s crowd. What happened to the girl with Justin? Dunno, she left. You look at Zeren who gives you a look that says follow your heart, because he just wants you to have fun. So off you go with the two boys and their one very intoxicated brain cell.

The other girl has never played before, and she sucks, and Chengcheng is drunk as hell so he’s not doing her any favors. Justin’s actually terrible, too, but he’s got you and victory comes swiftly. Justin talks a lot of trash he has no right to, but you just laugh. You linger in the basement for a bit and chat with some acquaintances. There’s the part you’re in, where there’s a washer and dryer and some chairs and a table that is used almost exclusively for it’s current purpose. There’s another room behind the door. That room is mostly finished and it serves as Zeren’s bedroom. He likes that it’s cold, even though he has to use a space heater in the winter. It’s quiet and dark down there. It’d be creepy if Zeren were a creepy person, but he’s not. He’s neat, a minimalist, and he doesn’t spend a lot of time down there, but he values it for sleep. You tried to convince him not to live down there thinking he’d get sick, but he’s actually doing okay and you can appreciate why he likes it when you sometimes sleep down there. Usually he locks it during parties because he likes his privacy, but you need to use the bathroom and he has his own down there so when no one is looking you try the handle and surprisingly it’s unlocked. The light is on and there’s a couple on his bed. You know there’s about a 99% chance that’s where you’re sleeping tonight, so you politely ask them to leave and they do. You lock the door behind them. You put on Zeren’s slippers because, and you won’t admit this to anyone, your feet are freezing so you’ll just warm them up a bit before you go out to face people again. You use the bathroom and wash your hands before you lay down on Zeren’s bed. Somehow it’s already past eleven, almost eleven thirty according to his alarm clock, the old school kind with the red numbers. You don’t remember that much time passing. You don’t feel like you’ve talked to that many people at this party. You don’t think you’ve smoked that many cigarettes. You spend about ten minutes in Zeren’s room before you decide to face it again. You put his slippers back exactly where you found them and you turn off the light. You slip out and up the stairs unnoticed.

You’re at the crossroads again. You could go anywhere in this party. Zhengting and his dance friends are still hanging in the living room. Zhengting hasn’t actually moved at all. He doesn’t have to. He’s still perched on the arm of the couch and people come to talk to him. You think for a moment about how you don’t fit in with them. You don’t have any of the same hobbies. They’re all music and art majors and you’re studying history with a minor in philosophy. You can’t dance for shit. Zeren makes fun of you for it all the time, but he finds it endearing in a weird way. Your bonds with these boys are about something deeper within you and the experiences you’ve shared, and you’re fine with that. They’ve helped you through some tough times, even if they don’t fully realize it.

You’ve lingered at the top of the stairs too long in indecision. People are bumping into you. You don’t like it when people are mad at you, so you decide to go up to Zhengting and be sweet. You don’t say anything, since he’s in the middle of conversation. You just wrap your arms around him in a back hug and rest your chin on his shoulder. Without any other acknowledgement he just leans his head against yours. He knows it’s you. He knows what you’re doing. It’s okay. You’re hearing the conversation, but you’re not really listening. You know Yanjun is only a few feet away from you. But Fuck Yanjun. Zhengting can think what he wants, but you're not going back this time. You've spent the last two days analyzing all the fucked up things about your relationship. You made a list, on paper, and when it was physically there in front of your eyes it was harder to ignore. You can't go back. You always thought the way he treated you was your fault, and yes, you bring a lot of your own toxicity to your relationship, but so does he. He doesn’t know how to love any better than you do and it's not all his fault. You know that. But he still loves the way you're cracked and broken, loves to pick at the chips on your paint, and fuck him for that. He uses his beautiful face to pretend he's not broken, too. And you're just over it. You want something different, something better for yourself.

You're immune to his gaze for now, but you can feel Zeren watching your back, literally and figuratively. He's observing. He's got eyes on all your potential enemies. He's running threat assessments in his head. He can't even help it. You're one of his people, just like Quanzhe is. Zhengting and Wenjun, too, but to a lesser extent. He won’t let them get hurt, but he doesn’t feel like he has to protect them the way he does you. He can't stop you from making the dumb choices you make. He can't control you, but he can do his best to protect you from other threats.

You kiss the side of Zhengting's head and slink back to the kitchen without a word. Zeren is talking to a girl in there. You recognize her but you can't remember her name. She's part of the dance group. She's nice if your drunk brain remembers correctly. You don't want to interrupt so you just slip your hand into his pocket and pull out his smokes and his lighter and slink out the backdoor just as quietly. You didn't see the look that says he wishes he could go with you, but at least you're wearing the jacket he gave you earlier. After you've fumbled around and managed to light your cigarette you can hear there's some sort of commotion inside. You listen to the sounds coming from within the house but do nothing. It's someone else's problem. It's Zeren's problem, to be specific, but he'll deal with it. You didn't consider the implications of the commotion until you heard his voice. Yanjun says your name. He's picked his moment carefully and that's all he says for now. You're frozen to the side of the house, but you have to exhale the smoke. That's all the movement you make, the contraction of your lungs to expel the toxic air and the puckering of your lips to direct it up to the clear night sky.

"Still smoking?" He asks. He acts like he hates it but actually he doesn't care at all. He just likes to criticize you for it.

"Only when I drink," you mutter the same line you've said a hundred times.

"You're always drinking." Like he doesn't?

"What do you want?"

You don't get to find out, thank God. The door opens again behind him. Someone’s getting tossed out and they crash past Yanjun who’s lingering halfway down the steps.

“Don’t come back until you can behave politely,” Zeren says in his not-fucking-around tone. You’ve always admired the way he can get a point across with such nice words. He doesn’t need to curse, though he will, just for fun.

It’s Justin and he’s absolutely shitfaced. He puts his hand on the wall beside your head and leans into you. You turn your head to blow out your smoke. “You okay, baby?” you ask when you look back at him, brushing hair out of his eyes. You can see he’s definitely not. He’s not just drunk. He’s lost. You recognize it, and you feel for him. His brother is coming down the steps.

“Sorry,” he mutters to Zeren, embarrassed. When you look at Zeren’s face, cast in the yellow light from inside, you can see he’s not really mad. He knows what he’s looking at as well as you do. He just doesn’t tolerate drama and violence in his home. It’s a rule with him. Even you’ve been thrown out before, though not quite like this. You were asked to exit the building. He’d never put his hands on you like that.

“You guys gonna head home?” you ask.

“Yeah. Uber’s on it’s way,” Xinchun says as he puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder and pulls him away from you.

“‘Kay. Get home safely. Happy New Year,” you say, and the older brother just gives a little wave as they walk/stumble around the corner of the house.

You look back and Yanjun is still on the next to last step. Zeren’s still holding the door open. He’s not speaking but his message is clear that he’s not leaving.

“You need something?” you ask your ex.

He scoffs. “You think I’m scared of Zeren?”

“‘Course not. Why would you be?”

Zeren comes down the steps to where you are, carefully not to make any contact with Yanjun, not to give him an excuse. He takes the cigarette from your fingers and steals a drag--they’re his smokes after all. Zeren’s shielding you again, with his back to Yanjun. Beautiful Yanjun, you think. Beautiful and broken like you. Nothing you can do. It’s clear now all he wanted was to bother you, and he can’t so he walks back into the party in a huff.

“Thanks,” you say to Zeren.

“I didn’t do anything, sweetheart.” He continues to smoke, letting the tension of the last several minutes fade away. You ask what happened with Justin. “He went at the wrong girl the wrong way. It wasn’t much. The other guy just shoved him but he’s hammered and he hit the table before he fell to the ground. He’ll be fine. Let’s go inside,” he says, shivering, and puts out the cherry.

“Hey, I’ve been pretty good tonight. You know, by my standards,” you say as you enter the empty kitchen. “I’m not even that drunk,” you say as you attempted to hop onto the counter and fail miserably. You both laugh hard at how you struggle until he puts his hands on your hips and helps you launch yourself up. He hands you your bottle just when you’re wondering where you’d left it. There’s still a third of it left and it was with him the whole time so you know it’s safe, even though it’s probably most backwash by now. You take a big drink of it anyway because you have this feeling the night’s not going to last much longer. You look at the clock on the stove and it says 10:47 and that can’t be right because you could swear it should be close to midnight. The clock on the microwave says 1:23 and now you’re double confused. You look over at Zeren who’s wearing a happy smile.

“Bye Zeren! See you next week,” Ziyi calls from the door. Him and his crew are leaving and they're taking a sizeable chunk of the party with them.

“You sly bastard,” you smile. “What time is it?”

“Quanzhe says time is a construct. But if you must know…” he pulls your phone out of his pocket. “It’s 12: 17.” He hands it back to you and you reach between your legs to open the silverware drawer and toss it in. He laughs again and it sounds so nice.

“You changed all the clocks in the apartment?”

“I let Quanzhe change all the clocks in the apartment.”

“Even the one in your bedroom?”

“You were in my bedroom?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just needed to get away for a second,” you admit.

“That’s cool,” he says, and he really doesn’t mind.

“So, we didn’t kiss anyone at midnight,” you say.

“It’s a stupid tradition,” he argues. You nod your head in agreement.

“So, our NYE party was like, our least rowdy party of the year,” you observe. It’s gotten quiet. The music is a little too loud for the current ambiance. There are still some people around though. “Hey, all the really rowdy people have left. You wanna abandon your post and go chill?”

Part of Zeren wants to stay here just the two of you, but he’s ready for some low key socialization. He even coaxed Quanzhe and Linkai to come down and hang out. There are about ten people left now and they’re all cool people. There’s also Chengcheng in the basement with a couple of people, but they trust Chengcheng. Zeren’s turned the music down and you chitchat casually about current events. You’re on the couch between Quanzhe and Zeren and you really want to stretch out over both of them, let your feet reach all the way down to Wenjun, maybe far enough to tease Zhengting, but you try to behave yourself. There are still guests here. Not you. You’re not a guest. Eventually, Chengcheng and his friends come up.

“I didn’t get to kiss you at midnight,” he says with his head close enough to yours that you can smell the beer on his breath.

“Darn. My loss, I guess,” you say with no emotion, just to tease him. You do actually like Fan Chengcheng, just not like that.

“Well, next year.” He shrugs into his jacket and says, “see ya later,” before he walks out the door. The last few guests leave and Zeren starts to pick up trash. You help while the others all go up to their rooms.

“You don’t have to help. You can go lay down,” he tells you as you put trash into the bag he’s carting around the apartment. You’re not tired yet, you swear. You’re not ready to go, really. There’s something that feels incomplete about the night. But maybe it’s just that you aren’t totally trashed. You’re drunk, sure. You drank most of a fifth of whiskey and then some, but you’re not the wreck you usually are, and it seems strange. You head down to the basement to clear up the trash down there and it’s all done pretty quickly with the two of you. You each take one last shot because it’s the New Year and it may all be fake, but life needs ritual and Zeren knows that. Then the two of you go out onto the front porch for your final smoke. You’ll have to go home after this. It’s right there in front of you, and you’re not that drunk, so you have no excuse.

“How come I’m the only guy you didn’t ask to kiss you tonight?” Zeren asks while you lean your head on his shoulder.

You huff a little laugh. “Because I know you’ll say no.”

“How do you know if you don’t ask?”

“Because I know you won’t kiss me when I’m drunk. I know I ask and I know you never do. You’re a good guy who won’t take advantage of me, even if I want it.” You take a deep breath and for some reason the gates are open. You’ve just admitted that you know how you are with him when you’re drunk and you’re about to admit a lot more. “I know that I lean on you, and you take care of me and I don’t give you anything in return because I’m just a shitty fucked up person, but I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. And that’s probably the worst thing about me. I use you even though I don’t want to.” Zeren wants to say something, but it’s stuck in his throat, and you go on. “I know that I tell you things when I’m drunk. I don’t know what all I’ve told you, but I know that you know more about me than anyone. I know we’ve sat here a dozen times at this time of night or later, and you’ve let me unload all my crap on you and asked for nothing in return, and I know that makes me a terrible person. But I feel so safe with you. I know you know the deep shit about me, and you keep it to yourself. I can see it in how you look at me, but you don’t pity me, and I can’t tell you how much that fucking means to me, Zeren. It means everything. And I’m sorry I don’t show my appreciation, but I’m just so embarrassed.” You sniff but you don’t even bother to wipe the tears that are coming down because there are only going to be more. “I know that I’m pathetic and useless.”

“Don’t-” he tries to stop you but you trudge ahead.

“I’m trying to fix myself. I’m going to therapy now, but there’s just so much shit. There’s so much wrong with me, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay.” Your breath is shaking and the words come out chopped up now, and you have to stop to catch your breath.

He wraps his arm around you and says, “I know. Shit. I mean, I know that you’re in therapy. And I’m really proud of you. You might not be able to see it, but I can actually see you doing better.” He’s talking to give you time to catch your breath and also because he thinks you need to hear it, even though he’s not sure you’ll remember.

“You can?” you sniff.

He smiles. “Earlier tonight Chengcheng said you looked ugly in your dress and you told him you knew you looked good. From the girl I met a few years ago, that’s a lot of progress.” He doesn’t say that he knows Yanjun preys on your low self esteem, but he’s thinking about it.

“Zeren, can I say something selfish? I mean, shit, I do selfish shit all the time, but I’m acknowledging it right now.”

He’s shaking his head, but it’s at your way of talking and he says yes.

“Are you waiting for me?” you ask. His mouth falls open a little. Your eyes widen and you suddenly cover his mouth with your hand. “No. Fuck. No, don't answer that! Shit. What I wanted to say is. I wait for you. Ah this is so fucked up. Nevermind.”

Zeren doesn’t know where you’re going, and he thinks it might be something that could break him, but he doesn’t care anymore. He’s been playing the self-preservation game for so damn long he doesn’t even know what he’s protecting anymore. He just knows he loves it when you open up to him and you’re doing it even more than usual and he wants--no he needs--to hear whatever it was you wanted to say. He removes your hand from his mouth and looks into your eyes, red as they are from the drinking and the crying. “Please say whatever you want to say.”

You hesitate, but Zeren is someone you can trust and you know that, but that’s why this isn’t fair to him. “Aaaaahhhh,” you keep hesitating, but eventually you just give in. “Let me get my thoughts back together,” you finally say. He waits patiently, as always, but inside he’s burning. You take a deep breath and begin again. “I know what I have with Yanjun is fucked up. I know that it’s bad. I used to think that because I’m a shitty person-”

“Please for the love of god, sweetheart, stop saying that. I hate it,” he interrupts.

You try to use your nice words for yourself. “Okay. I used to think that because I thought I was not a good person, I deserved to be treated how he treats me. I didn’t think I deserved to be treated the way you treat me. But I want to. I want that treatment, and I want to deserve it, and I tried.” Oh fuck, tears are coming in again. “I tried to be someone who could receive that from you, but I didn’t do it right. I’d just get fucked up and let you take care of me, and I understand how wrong that was, and I understand that it’s wrong right now. Whenever Yanjun and I split up a part of me hopes you’ll come in and scoop me up and show me why I didn’t deserve that, but I always fucked it up. And I know now that I can’t rely on you for that. I need to pick myself, and I need to fix myself up. And I will,” you promise him. “So, tonight, I’m going to go home, and I’m going to take care of myself, and I’m not going to trouble you anymore.” Your muscles start to coil like you’re going to get up and march home. So he puts his hand on your leg to stop you.

“Hold on a damn minute,” he says. “I just...give me a second to think.” You furrow your brow at him, but you wait. “Are you saying...what the hell are you saying?”

The thoughts were jumbled as they were coming out and they’re even more jumbled now. “I think I’m saying I’m going home.” You stand.

“Wait.” He grabs your wrist gently, just enough to get your attention. “Are you going because you want to go home, or because you’re afraid of being a burden?”

You think for a second. “I hate going home,” you tell him. You even hate that word, home. Even the house where you live across the street from him doesn’t give you the sense of safety and security that word is supposed to embody. Only Zeren gives you that.

“Then don’t go home. Stay here, like you always do. It’s not trouble, okay? Tomorrow, you can explain all of this to me clearly, when we’re both sober. We’ll both be honest about what we know, and you can tell me then, okay?” He had a plan. You thought it sounded like a good one, not least because it involved you waking up here, your favorite place to wake up. He’s still holding onto your wrist, so you sit back down beside him. He lets you go, but uses his fingers to wipe your tear stained cheeks.

“You ruined all Zhengting’s hard work,” he comments, using his thumbs to try to clear your raccoon eyes a little.

“You know, when he was doing it earlier, I was thinking to myself how much of a waste it was going to be when I cried it all off later.” You both laugh and you lean your head back on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for being so broken,” you say quietly after a couple of quiet minutes pass.

He huffs a laugh, as if that’s something you could or should apologize for. “Hey, I’ve got a ton of tools, and duct tape, and super glue. I’m really great at putting shit back together,” he assures you.

You wake up, but you can’t be sure what time it is because you’re in the basement on Zeren’s bed and there’s no sunlight down there and you don’t trust clocks anymore. But you’re pretty sure it’s mid-morning because you can hear him in the kitchen. It’s warm in his room from the space heater. Your head hurts, just a little, not a lot, but of course he’s prepared for that and left you water and medicine. You take it before going upstairs. He’s making scrambled eggs, but you don’t know who he was preparing for because you’re the only one besides him on that floor. He’s wearing the same plaid pajama pants he always wears and a plain white t-shirt. You wonder briefly if it’s the same white t-shirt from last night or if he put on a different one to sleep in. The boy owns a lot of plain white t-shirts. You clear your throat as you lean in the doorway.

“I was going to make you breakfast this morning,” you say. You always say that. Sometimes you actually do it. Sometimes not.

He smiles. “You can make toast.” He hands you a bag of bread and you get to work. While it’s toasting you scoot in beside him in the small space and get a cup of coffee. He likes your closeness. He can smell you, and he doesn’t even care that you smell like whiskey because you still smell like you, too. It’s quiet. You don’t really talk until you’re sitting down to eat. It’s still just the two of you, and even then you’re not talking about much. He doesn’t say anything as you take his empty plate and wash the dishes. He gets up for a second cup of coffee and then sits back down at the table. You wonder what he’s thinking about but you don’t ask. He’s wondering what you’re thinking about, too. This is what the two of you always do after nights like that, on mornings like this. It’s so damn comfortable, even in its uncertainty. He always wonders what you remember. You always wonder what you said, though not today. When you’ve finished the dishes you go down to the basement to strip his bed and wash his sheets. You feel guilty. He shouldn’t give up his bed to you, but he insists, and he shouldn’t have to wash his own sheets every time you sweat whiskey on them. Normally you’d go back up stairs and watch something on TV with him until the warm bedding comes out of the dryer and you’ve made his bed. Only then will you leave without saying a single word about any of the things that you’ve done since you stopped remembering the night before.

But not this time. This time he comes down the stairs while you’re putting in laundry detergent.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. He’s never said it before. Not because he thought you needed to or you owed him that, but because he knew it made you feel good to do it, like you were somehow paying him back for a debt that he wasn’t even recording. He let you do it for yourself. After last night, he doesn’t want you to let you as much.

You close the door of the washer. “It’s done,” you smile.

He fidgets with the hair at the back of his head. This is his nervous tick, and you know what’s coming. You’re not really afraid of it, though. You need it and so does he. You just don’t know if you’re going to like what comes after.

“So, last night…” he starts, but doesn’t know how to continue.

“I remember.”

“I said I was going to ask you to tell it to me sober. Can you do that?”

You nod and sit in one of the chairs in the basement living area. It’s not really a living area. It’s a laundry room, but there are some chairs down there and sometimes you sit there and pass a joint. He sits in another chair and looks at you, but not intently.

“Can I just offer up a disclaimer that what I’m going to say is probably going to be arrogant and presumptuous and selfish, and I’m not sure if it’s fair to you, but I don’t think it’s fair to you if I don’t say them either. So we can just get them out of the way, and if you want me gone, then I’m gone.” You say it all in one breath. He wrinkles his eyebrows because he disagrees already, but he accepts with a nod and allows you to continue. “Right. So. I may be wrong about this, but sometimes in our friendship I’ve felt like you’re waiting for me. And at other times, I feel I’m waiting for you. I know that you know things about me no one else knows. You’ve taken on secret burdens of mine that I had no right to force on you, and you’ve done it all without asking for anything in return. I take and take from you. I’m sorry. I don’t want to do that anymore.” You take a deep breath, but he knows you’re not done and he doesn’t interrupt. “Everytime Yanjun and I have broken up, there’s a part of me that hoped you would come and scoop me up. I was torn between believing that I deserved what he gave me and what you gave me. I knew I didn’t have any right to ask for more from you, so I tried not to. And when you didn’t scoop me up and he came back, I just figured that was my answer. He was what I deserved and not you. I hope that doesn’t sound like I’m blaming you. I’m not. I’ve been working on it and thinking about it a lot, and I know now that I don’t deserve either of you. I let him treat me like shit because it’s what I’m used to, and I accept your kindness selfishly even though I don’t know what I can give in return. So, I’m going to end it both. I’m not going back with him this time, and if I do Zhengting can hit me over the head with a two by four. But I’m going to stop leaning on you, too. You don’t deserve a friend like me who takes and doesn’t give.” You didn’t know how to end it and he’s just looking at you. “So. There. That’s it.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Sweetheart, you think you don’t give in this friendship? You think that I sacrifice by letting you crash on my bed a couple nights a month, but do you remember who helped me get that bed? It was you. And I coulda gotten one on my own, but I probably wouldn’t have because I was a dumb kid and also I needed someone to help hold it on the roof.” You both laugh a little at the memory. “Who sat with me for days freshman year when my grandfather died and I couldn’t go home? Who leaves lasagna in the fridge when we’ve been too busy with work and school and dance? I might not act the way you do when I’m upset, but somehow you always know, and you’re the only person who can cheer me up, and you don’t even try. And I hate Yanjun. And I’m sorry I didn’t scoop you up. I didn’t think I had the right. But you don’t deserve to be treated like trash, and it isn’t selfish to let people care for you.”

You’re both quiet for a moment. “Well, damn,” you mutter to yourself. There’s a part of you that really wishes you’d asked him to kiss you last night because right now you’re wondering what it would be like to kiss Ding Zeren, but you’re too shy and he’s too shy and it isn’t going to happen right now. Neither of you have actually confessed, per se. It’s all there, but you’re not even conscious of how much you actually love each other. You've got fuck all grasp on what that word means, no more than you do home, but Zerens still the closest you've come to either. He doesn't understand it either. Things are shifting for you and you don’t know where they’ll fall. He breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what happens next, but you’re my best friend. I don’t care what you take from me. I haven’t given anything I wasn’t willing to. I haven’t done anything I didn’t want to except maybe watch you cry too many times. So if there’s something you want to do for me, then stop doing that. I mean, at least over him. You’ve got plenty of other reasons to cry, but just not over him, okay? And I don’t want to be his replacement for the love you need in your life. I just want to keep treating you the way I’ve been treating you, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” you say, not exactly sure what he means by that, but you accept it and you’ll figure it out as it comes. It’s a big moment for both of you. A step in your friendship that had to be taken, but now you both need time to process what it means. You still have things to work out.

You both go back upstairs. You go up to Zhengting and Wenjun’s room to find your non-party clothes laying in a pile in the hallway. You change and watch TV until the others wake. You talk to Zhengting and explain to him that you really, really don’t want to get back with Yanjun and as convinced as you are of that, you know you’re going to need his help. You bring up the two by four thing again. You need help with your willpower when it comes to people. You suck at boundaries and you know it’s not fair to ask Zeren’s help with this even though you think he’d be a lot better because he has two middle names and they are structure and limits. You remember your phone is still in the silverware drawer, except it isn’t because Zeren plugged it in for you and he gives it to you so you can block Yanjun’s number, and you start to feel at ease again. You text Justin and Chengcheng to see if they got home okay. You smoke with Quanzhe, and you hang out, and you’re just at home.

Over the course of the Spring term you continue to do therapy and you work hard to be better because you are a hard worker, even if you feel like a failure a lot. Zeren and your other friends remind you that you’re not. You all stay over summer because most of you have jobs and you have finally learned you don’t have to go home. That’s a boundary you can set. You guys still party, but not like you used to. Not to forget. Not until you forget. And it’s a little unfortunate that your first kiss with Zeren came that summer while you were drinking, but you were so damn cute and funny and you were alone and he just couldn’t help himself. It was great though and it felt right. There was a part of you that was afraid it would be weird to kiss your best friend but it wasn’t at all. It made you both tingly and warm, and it felt better than any other kiss you’ve ever had, so you do it a lot more.

Zeren comes around on his own to the idea that he’s not a rebound and he’s not filling some void in you. He realizes that he deserves you, too. After all the time he’s cared for you and been with you, he deserves to have the complete deal. Not because it’s owed to him, but because you’re both good people and you both want it. He finds satisfaction in your simple routines and understanding your innerworkings and you telling him how you feel without needing to be plastered. But he also enjoys the way you bring joy and laughter and a touch of spontaneity into his life. He helps you by setting his own limits and then letting your set yours. He helps you to grow and overcome your fears of intimacy and abandonment. He stays and he doesn’t criticize and you’ve never once worried when you were apart that it would be forever.

You never told him that you did make a New Year’s resolution to understand what you deserve and then to get it. You didn’t say because you think it’s like a wish and it won’t come true if you say it out loud. He never told you that his was just to be with you.

**Author's Note:**

> I've literally never done a one-off, an xReader or present tense before so I hope this was not awful. 
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR


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